


Hold your Horses

by Nancepance



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Animals, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Easter Eggs, F/M, Fever, First Aid, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23577244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nancepance/pseuds/Nancepance
Summary: “Watch out!”Face pushes the woman down out of sheer instinct when a searing pain explodes in his left shoulder. He gasps breathlessly, when the bullet rips through muscle and bone and out the other side. Glass is raining down on them from the driver side window of the car he’d been trying to hotwire. Face can feel the woman screaming, but he can’t hear anything beyond the ringing in his own ears. Two more shots go off before all is quiet and the door is ripped open.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please review? I love getting to know people and I like to know what you think.

_“Watch out!”_

_Face pushes the woman down out of sheer instinct when a searing pain explodes in his left shoulder. He gasps breathlessly, when the bullet rips through muscle and bone and out the other side. Glass is raining down on them from the driver side window of the car he’d been trying to hot-wire. Face can feel the woman screaming, but he can’t hear anything beyond the ringing in his own ears. Two more shots go off before all is quiet and the door is ripped open._

**Three weeks ago:**

The announcer is calling out names in rapid fire as the horses tear down the track. Their hooves thundering and their jockeys pushing them to the limit. The crowd goes wild! People are laughing, betting and generally having a wonderful time. Sunlight is filtering through the dusty air and three young women watch the race with bated breath. Suddenly one of the horses starts to stagger and sway dangerously. The jockey desperately tries to compensate, to keep them from colliding with the other horses. Foaming at the mouth and white eyed the horse fights to keep its balance. The crowd gasps in horror when the animal stumbles and falls, landing hard on its rider.  
“And ‘Tea with Biscuits’ is down, ladies and gentlemen… It doesn’t look too good…” The announcer calls out before turning back to the race at hand.

“Biscuit!” One of the women cries out while jumping over the fence. She runs across the loose sand toward the writhing horse. She tries to get the horse back on its feet an off the jockey but fails. Finally, the two other women arrive and together with a few grooms, they muscle the animal up.  
“Beth! He isn’t moving!” The pretty brunette turns toward the fallen man and checks his pulse.  
“I need some help! Please?!” More people arrive with a stretcher. They have to move quickly because the racehorses will be lapping again soon, and they will be at risk of being overrun.

They make it just in time before the first horse passes the spot where the unconscious jockey just lay. Beth keeps an eye out for the ambulance while her sister checks out the horse. The animal looks dazed and its front leg is swelling massively. Their eyes meet and they know it’s over…


	2. You found the A-Team

**One week ago:**

  
Three well-dressed ladies enter the seemingly deserted and slightly seedy looking laundromat looking for the Chinese owner they are supposed to meet.  
“You see anyone?” whispers one of the brunettes. They huddle together trying to figure out if they are at the right place or not. The long-legged blonde heaves a sigh and rolls her eyes at the two sisters. She purses her painted lips and struts towards the bel on the counter, her high heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor.  
DING…  
She puts a hand on her hip and waits impatiently.  
DING… DING… DING… Just as she plans on moving behind the counter, they hear shuffling feet.

“Why you ring?” An elderly Chinese man asks in a heavily accented voice. He seems agitated and shuffles towards the blonde. “Why you ring so many? Have you no manner?” The blonde is taken aback by the aggressiveness of the man but recovers quickly.  
“Are you Mr. Lee?” she asks.  
“It depend on who asking… You asking?” the man asks while checking her out.  
“Yes I’m asking! I have had it up to here with this...” The pretty blonde starts to pick up steam. “How many more guys do we have to meet before we can make contact?!”  
“Maureen…!” one of the women by the entrance hisses at her.  
“What?! It’s true isn’t it?” Maureen whips around to cast an exasperated look at her friends.

The Chinese man walks up to her. “In China we have saying. Horse cannot eat best grass, if he walks to quickly.” Maureen’s eyes narrow as she spots a slight smirk on the old man’s face. She hasn’t been in her business for this long without learning some survival skills. This man is playing them!  
“Enough with the small talk! Where can I find the A-team?” she all but shouts at him.  
Immediately the whole demeanor of the man changes. His face twists and he makes some unknown rude hand gesture. “I know no A-team! You leave!” He waves the blond away angrily and points at the door. “No laundry, no wash. You leave!”  
“But sir?” One of the brunettes comes forward, her hands in a begging position. “Please we need help.”  
“No! I want no trouble.” The Chinese man opens the door and forcefully shoves the ladies out.

The women stumble back into the alley when the door slams shut behind them. The old man locks it and rolls down the blinds, making it impossible to see what’s going on inside the laundromat.  
“Why you little… We flew all the way from New York to L.A. and I’m not going back without an answer!” Maureen is seething.  
“Carol, look at this…” One of the women shows a folded paper to her sister. The man had secretly pressed it into her hand when he pushed them out. Carol takes the small piece of paper and unfolds it. It’s an address…

Two women enter the small American diner Hannibal picked out for making contact. Face is sitting at the bar checking them out surreptitiously. They look well put together and confident, but the conman immediately notices the way they slightly huddle together. Their clothes look expensive, but their hands tell a different story. These women are used labor, not riches. Face narrows his eyes. There should be a third one, shouldn’t there…? Shrugging to himself, he nods at the colonel sitting in the far away booth. The colonel stands and waves the two women over. They glance at each other, square their shoulders and walk toward Hannibal. _‘Hmmm…'_ Face thinks as he stands up to join the party too, when the doorbell rings again.

Face turns toward the door to see a magnificent looking blonde walk through. High heels, smooth long legs, curvy hips, a flat belly and a nice pair of…  
“Eyes up here cowboy!” Face is almost painfully snapped out of his reverie and smiles sheepishly at her.  
“Are you with the people I’m looking for?” the woman asks without missing a beat.  
Face smooths his face back in its usual suave mask, blue eyes glittering and practically oozing sex appeal. “It depends on what you are looking for darling." He leans closer, his fingers sliding closer to her hand resting on the bar. "I know this little place by the…”  
“Having fun there, Lieutenant?” Hannibal calls out loudly across the diner. Face can hear a very distinct giggling coming from somewhere behind the counter and rolls his eyes with a groan.  
“That’s my boss.” Face offers the lady his arm, but she brushes past him and struts towards the colonel with purpose. “Come on B.A.,” he grumbles “let’s find out what this mission is all…” Face trails off while distractedly appreciating her posterior. “And stop laughing!” he snaps at the sniggering sergeant.

The blonde woman walks up to the colonel and shakes his hand. A dainty, well-manicured hand is lightly clasping an expensive purse, but her grasp is surprisingly strong. Her blue eyes seem like steel. Hannibal grins, he’s liking this bold woman already.  
“B.A, Face, this is Maureen Darlington and her associates Beth and Carol Spencer. Ladies, this is Sergeant B.A. Baracus and you’ve already met Lt. Templeton Peck.” Maureen looks at the conman with slight disdain before refocusing on the older man. “And I’m Colonel John Smith. We’re the A-team.”


	3. Here come the Cavalry!

_Face is dragged out of the car by the scruff of his neck and deposited on the dirty ground. He groans, his blue eyes looking up at the stars in a daze. He’s having trouble remembering where he is for a moment. Visions of bright green foliage and monkey calls superimpose themselves on the scene for a split second. He briefly considers letting the darkness consume him, when a bucket of cold water is dumped in his face. Face gasps and sputters and is roughly hauled onto his feet._

**One week ago:**

With greetings and introductions out of the way, the six of them take a seat and order some coffee.  
“So what brings you here, all the way from New York?” Hannibal asks the ladies curiously.  
Beth reaches into her purse and pulls out a folded up newspaper article. She hands it to the colonel.  
“This will probably tell you enough.”  
Hannibal unfolds the paper and the headline shouts: “Accident at Saratoga racetrack leaves jockey fighting for life” in bold letters. He scans the article quickly before handing it to Face.  
“I take it, that was no accident?” He asks.  
“No. We had blood taken from the horse before he was…” Carol takes over the story from her sister, her eyes shining brightly with unshed tears “before he had to be put down.” She steels herself and continues. “They found ketamine in his blood.”

“Ketamine, isn’t that a tranquilizer?” Face asks the woman.  
She nods. “It’s usually used in combination with other drugs to have a horse fully sedated for surgery. On its own, it causes the animal to become slow and disorientated.”  
“My guess is that you would never use it before a race?”  
Carol looks appalled. “God no! I’m a veterinarian, I know what the stuff does.”  
Hannibal leans back in his seat itching for a cigar. It makes him think better, but these ladies don’t seem like the type to enjoy a good cigar.  
“So someone injected the horse with ketamine before the race…”  
“No not _someone_ , I know who did it!” Maureen says with fire in her eyes.  
“Maureen…” Beth puts a calming hand on her friend’s arm.

Face notices movement at the front of the establishment and slowly lets himself sag in his seat. “Hannibal, we have company.” Hannibal peeks over the back of the bench and grins widely.  
“I’m sorry ladies, we would like to stay and chit chat, but seeing as we are wanted men we best be leaving now.” The colonel tips his imaginary hat at the women. “It has been a pleasure and congratulations, you just hired the A-team.” They get up from the table while sneaking a look at the men who entered the diner. “We will see you in New York. Face, I believe it’s your turn to pay.”  
Face pulls out his wallet with a flourish and puts a few bills on the table.  
“What, no complaining Lieutenant?” Face rolls his eyes and winks at a baffled looking Maureen.  
“Aw Hannibal, you know I’m a gentleman.” He takes one of the girl’s hands in his and gallantly presses a kiss onto it.  
“Face!”  
They try to casually walk past the two soldiers talking to the cashier.

“SMITH!”

“Rod!” Hannibal call’s out happily. “Fancy meeting you here. Hi there, Crane.” He adds as an afterthought. B.A. bears down on the much smaller captain unconsciously making him take a step back.  
“I would recommend the waffles, but I already know you have absolutely no taste.”  
“Yes, it’s a damn shame.” Face adds, a grin on his face. Noticing the gun in Hannibal’s hand, he takes a cigar from his pocket and lights it before handing it to the colonel.  
“Sadly, we have no time to share a cup of coffee, so you will have to excuse us.” Hannibal motions for his team to head for the van. As soon as he hears the engine revving he slaps Decker on the back and starts running. “Tag you’re it!”

Hannibal jumps in the black van, just before it peels out of the parking lot. “How nice of Decker to drop by, don’t you think guys?”  
B.A. looks into the side mirror and sees Decker and Crane jump into their car to chase them.  
“They’re following us Hannibal.”  
The colonel looks at the burly man with sparkling blue eyes.  
“I expected no less from them. Floor it B.A.!”

B.A. puts the pedal to the metal and runs a red light, turning sharply to the right. The van bounces and skids across the tarmac nearly missing oncoming traffic. Horns are blaring and tires squealing. Hannibal glances out the window to see the MP’s still following. B.A.’s face is scrunched up in concentration, trying to estimate the gap in traffic to fit the van through. He weaves expertly between cars and turns left just as the light turns green. “How we gonna lose ‘em Colonel? Hannibal looks thoughtfully for a few seconds before taking the cigar between his fingers.  
“Say Face, isn’t it fish Friday?” Hannibal asks the lieutenant who is bracing himself against the side of the van. Face looks at his CO questioningly before a wide grin appears on his face in understanding. Hannibal matches the grin. “I already thought so. Take a left here.” The van screeches around the corner and heads towards the docks at high speed with Decker’s car still following it. At the docks they swerve and narrowly avoid the carts of fish being wheeled from the ships to the freezer units. Dock workers dive out of the way of the oncoming vehicles, leaving the cart rolling on its own. The other car however isn’t so lucky. It hits one of the carts head on, it’s fishy contents smack onto the windshield and through the open side windows. Completely out of control the car careens of the side of the docks and into the water with a splash.

The van slowly doubles back to the site of the accident. A small crowd is standing at the edge looking at the car in the water. The team can see both Decker and Crane bobbing around in the water with the colonel screaming his head off at the onlookers. Glad to see the men unharmed they drive away without anyone noticing.


	4. Jar of Pickles

**One day ago:**

Murdock hangs up the phone. "Think sickness…" his friend had told him. After packing his stuff and dropping his duffel bag out the window, he wanders around the psych ward in search of inspiration. He plays around with the idea of using some red paint from the art room to fake measles if he weren't so sure he already had measles as a kid _. 'And it's also not very imaginative, I mean Tom and Jerry did it jus' last week! Hmmm…'_ Murdock stealthily sneaks out of the hospital wing into the kitchen. Getting out of the psych ward is easy. Getting out of the hospital isn't really that difficult either, but the pilot isn't looking forward to the results of such escapades. _'No siree, no solitary confinement fer poor ol' Murdock this time. No way Jose…'_ Murdock shudders at the memory of the last mission with the team. He had to spring himself and the result wasn't pleasant. Solitary always brings out his worst shadows into the light. It had taken him days to come back to himself after that. While rifling through the cabinets his eye falls onto something glinting in the artificial lighting. Murdock giggles maniacally. _'Bingo!'_

Face shrugs on his white lab coat and walks inside the VA hospital after being called by a very distraught nurse. He couldn't make head nor tails of her story, but he assured the woman that he was coming as soon as he could. After checking his reflection in his rear-view mirror, Face picks up a cup of coffee on the way to the psych ward. At the nurse's station he spots a nurse who is wringing her hands nervously. A pretty and very young redhead. Guessing that's the woman that called him, he walks towards her and introduces himself. He smiles warmly at her and makes sure to get in some extra physical contact.

"Oh, thank God doctor! I don't know what's gotten into him."  
"What do you mean nurse. Has he become dangerous?" Face asks curiously.  
"No, nothing like that!" The young woman tries to reassure him, but her quivering voice belies her confidence. "Mr. Murdock usually is a lot of fun, but today… he has mood swings. He even made a nurse cry. A male one!"  
"You did good nurse Lydia" Face pats her arm comfortingly. "When have these symptoms started?" Face asks while pretending to write it down on a clipboard.  
"This morning doctor, he was really sick and threw up. After that he became… unstable…"

Face raises an eyebrow at this. Maybe his friend is actually sick... The nurse opens the door for him and steps inside. Murdock is sitting on the bed with what seems to be world's biggest jar of pickles in his arms. Cradling it like you would a child.  
"Mr. Murdock?" She speaks softly to him as not to startle him. "We called the doctor, just like you asked."  
The pilot takes one look in Face's direction and starts to cry. The conman is left speechless for a moment. _'Wow, real tears and all…!'_

Murdock waits for the exact moment when Face takes a sip of his coffee, before digging up his best Southern Belle impression and wailing: "Doctor! I think I might be pregnant!" There is something magical about watching Face spit out his coffee in shock. The mask slips for a split second and he stares at the pilot, his blue eyes wide open and his jaw slack.  
Shaking his head minutely, Face schools his features again, a vision of professionalism and turns towards the nurse. "How did you know my number, if I may ask?" The nurse reaches into her uniform and takes out a business card. She hands it to Face.

'Dr. McCoy, gynecologist'

Face groans internally. He should have known. _'Who screens these women?!'_ "Now Captain Murdock, I'm quite sure that that isn't the case." Murdock looks at his friend with wide brown eyes.  
"But I be havin' such a cravin' for pickles." He shakes the jar a bit for emphasis and proceeds to tick off all his symptoms on his fingers. "Nausea, mood swings…, bloatin'…, and not to mention needing to…"  
Face sighs dramatically, shutting out the pilot's voice. "Well, I better get him to gynecology." The nurse stares while the pilot keeps babbling on.  
"Gynecology? But he is a man." She looks at the doctor in disbelief.

' _So,_ _you_ do _notice…'_ "Well, you know…" Face waves his hands around and looks apologetic for a second. "I think, it might be best to let him see there is nothing wrong with him. You know ehm..., physically..." The nurse nods and leaves to get a wheelchair. She appears to be very worried for the pilot's well being. Taking care to softly touch his shoulder before leaving.

"Really Murdock, pregnancy?" he whispers at his friend. Murdock just smiles and shakes the gigantic jar again and Face concedes. That is one big jar of pickles.


	5. A Horse is a Horse of Course

“I bet ya, that it would make a great movie.”

It took three glasses of spiked milk to finally knock out the big guy. It also took the three of them to get him on the plane Face scammed for the flight to Albany, New York.  
“What?” Face asks, panting slightly “The pregnancy thing?”  
Wiping the sweat off his brow Murdock takes the pilot’s seat and starts up radio contact with the tower. “Yeah.”  
“Nah…” Face takes the seat next to him and watches the pilot go through his pre flight checks. It’s good to see him in his element. “Who could you possibly cast for such a role?”  
Murdock looks pensive for a while before turning to his friend with crazy glittering eyes. “Wanna make a bet?”  
“Sure Murdock, as long as you don’t mind saying goodbye to Benjamin Franklin.” Murdock opens his mouth to agree to the terms, but Face cuts him of. “With interest of course. For every year it takes for such a movie to come out, up until say… 20 years?”  
The pilot smirks and extends his hand. “Deal!”  
Face leans back in his seat feeling good and thinking about beautiful Maureen and the best strategy to get her into his bed.  
“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, Face?” Murdock asks his friend in between communications.  
“Hmm… Oh nothing.” Face answers distractedly  
“That pretty huh?” Murdock says knowingly. Face smiles, his eyes closed, but remains silent.

Murdock’s ass feels like it died somewhere along the six-and-a-half-hour flight to Albany. Of all the planes Face could get, he scammed the one with busted seats. Face fled the cockpit eventually in search of a better seat, but he himself had no such luck. The pilot performs the last few checks before exiting the cockpit with a groan. Face and Hannibal are stowing their gear in the car the ladies sent them. Murdock rubs his butt and looks at the blissfully asleep B.A. _‘Lucky bastard…’_ They still have to drive an hour to get to their destination near Saratoga Springs. At least he will have the chance to work with horses again. _‘Better get the big guy in the car before he wakes up.’_ Murdock looks more closely at B.A.’s face. Twitch… twitch, twitch… _‘Uh oh… better make that quickly.’_

Brown eyes fly open and big meaty fists grab hold of the first thing they can get their hands on. “I told you, I ain’t getting on no airplane!” B.A. shouts.  
“Whaddaya mean big guy? I know ah am no genius, but this here vehicle looks like a car to me.” Murdock’s Texas drawl is practically dripping in sarcasm and Face punches his arm. “Ouch…!”  
“A car…?” The sergeant looks around, slightly dazed. “Dammit Hannibal you knocked me out again didn’t ya!”  
“Now B.A., be reasonable.” Hannibal takes his time to light his cigar. “Would you have really wanted to drive for two days straight.” He says while flicking his eyes in the direction of Murdock and Face’s quibbling. B.A. looks like he wants to say something, but the colonel doesn’t give him the chance. “Besides were here.”

They get out of the car and look around. The place is huge! A beautiful farmhouse sits to the left of the driveway. With white picketed fences and lush green grass interspersed with forested areas as far as the eye can see. The whole place oozes class.  
“I don’t like it when you lie to me Hannibal.” B.A. cracks his knuckles for emphasis. “And you!” he turns around to glare at the pilot who seems to be having an animated conversation with one of the horses.  
“Excuse me miss.” He says politely to the animal, tapping the bill of his cap before turning to B.A. “Me…?” Murdock points at himself. “What did I do?”  
“You flew sucker!”  
The angry sergeant advances on the retreating pilot, who hastily starts to back away. But before he can grab a fistful of the leather jacket, they are interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. They look to see a gorgeous blonde staring at them. Judging by her crossed arms and general posture she seems unamused by their antics. Murdock takes of his ball cap and looks slightly repentant, his hand scratching the back of his head.

“Captain Murdock is our pilot. Murdock, meet Maureen Darlington.” The colonel introduces her. The intimidating blonde steps forward to firmly shakes his hand. Murdock is happy to see the angry man stepping aside to cool off. _‘Phew… dodged a bullet there…’  
_ “Nice to meet you ma’am.” He nods his head politely at her. “You seem to have some great racing stock walking around.” he says, indicating the filly behind the fence.  
“You know your horses?” The blonde asks surprised while inviting them into the house.  
“I am from Texas ma’am. Where I come from, ye can’t not know ‘em.” He flashes a sly smirk at a preening Face. “That reminds me Face, how much money did ya lose that day?” The other men snicker, while Face sticks out his tongue at his friend, behind the woman’s back.

The men feel very out of place in the tightly packed parlor. Everywhere they turn, there are horse statuettes, trophies and porcelain figurines. The whole room practically screams femininity. From the flowery curtains to the ruched cushions and frilly tablecloths. Even the delicate teacups in their hands have roses on them. They are almost afraid to breathe, let alone move around in the room. Only Face looks like he belongs in the room with his stylish suit and expensive loafers if you ignored the fact that his smile seems to be a tad too tight. Not wanting to spend one minute more than necessary in this room, Hannibal turns to Maureen.  
“Can you please tell us what has been going on around here?”

The blonde puts down her cup, gathering her thoughts. “53 years ago, my grandfather built these stables. He had the knowledge and the experience but couldn’t afford to start his own business. A friend of the family invested and thus Greenville Downs came into existence.” Maureen reaches for an old photograph and looks at it lovingly, before handing it to Hannibal. It depicts two young men with a gleaming horse, smiling and shaking hands. “They came to an agreement that he would provide a set number of horses before the debt would be settled, which was last year. Sadly, it got in an accident and had to be put down.” The woman sighs sadly. “Even though the insurance payed out, Ian was very angry about it and demanded a new horse.”

“And you refused?” Hannibal asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”


	6. Time to Go Digging

_Face is marched into a room and dropped unceremoniously on his knees. He can feel his blood running down his back and chest, it’s making him light headed and shaky. He tries to get a feel for his heart rate, but a swift kick to his stomach prevents him from getting a good read._  
_“I warned you not to try to be a hero, didn’t I.”_

**One day ago:**

  
“I take it this Ian fella wasn’t too thrilled about it?” Face puts down his teacup to give the woman his whole attention.  
“No, he has a gambling problem and his farm is this close to going under.” Two perfectly manicured fingers indicate just how close. “We got some letters from his lawyer about a lawsuit, but we never replied.” Maureen walks to an antique desk to retrieve the legal documents. Murdock secretly snatches two porcelain figurines. After a passionate greeting they apparently are having a spat right now and Hannibal leans back, content on watching the silent and dramatic love story unfold. The woman returns and wants to hand the papers to Hannibal, but he waves them towards Face. The lieutenant makes sure to discreetly touch her fingers when taking the papers. A small blush is his reward and he barely fights back a smile before scanning their contents.

“Ian showed up drunk, more than once demanding that we give him what he wants or else…” She scoffs sadly. “I guess we now know what he meant.” Maureen wraps her arms around herself for support.  
“It’s okay little lady.” B.A. rumbles from his seat. “We gonna get him.” B.A. seems even more huge that usual, crammed into the tiny reading chair. He’s looking decidedly uncomfortable trying to keep from touching the frilly lace as if it’s something contagious, his muscles tight, ready to run. B.A. shoots his CO a withering look, daring him to say anything. Hannibal has to force himself not to smirk.  
“They seem legit Hannibal. Do you have a copy of the original contract?”  
“Yes, it’s in the safe. Let me get it.” Maureen stands and moves to the study to get the document.

Hannibal takes the time to look at his men. Face is checking out the photograph of the grandfather and his friend. "Hmmm..." he carefully puts it down and taps the silver frame thoughtfully. He seems to be taking in every detail of the room out of habit, looking relaxed. Murdock however, seems to be nodding off slowly, figurines forgotten. The colonel had noticed the worried glances Face throws at the pilot from time to time. Apparently the last job had taken a lot more out of the young man, than he’d anticipated. With the resurgence of lost memories, the pilot seemed to be more subdued and, dare he say it, sane lately. Hannibal doesn’t really know if it’s because the VA upped his medication, or because his man is suffering and keeping it to himself. He vows to ask Face about any changes in Murdock’s VA file.

Suddenly they hear a loud bang in the study next door and a decidedly unladylike curse. The four of them are up in a flash. “It’s gone!” Maureen storms back into the parlor with paperwork clasped in her hands. “It’s gone! The contract is gone!” Gone is the strong businesswoman when she sags into the nearest chair and buries her face in her hand. “Now I have no leg to stand on.”

“Don’t you worry too much about that, Chiquita.” Murdock says, while trying to cover up that one of the figurines is now missing an arm. “Hannibal will come up with a plan. He always does.”

Face spent his afternoon calling in contacts and gathering information. He had noticed that one of the legal papers was printed on paper with a different letter head while the rest all had the law firm’s letter head. Both the tone and the writing style differed vastly from those other documents, making him suspicious. ‘Lawson insurance’ After a quick call and he has an address. “Time to pay Mr. Lawson a visit.

Late afternoon, Face and Hannibal don their disguises as pest control workers. The noisily make their way into the lobby and start taking notes, talking loudly.  
“Excuse me?” The secretary speaks up, but the men don’t seems to be hearing her. “I said excuse me?! What’s going on around here.”  
“Pest control ma’am.” Hannibal says around the stub of his cigar with his jaws clamped shut.  
“Pest control? We never called someone from pest control. I’m going to call Mr. Lawson.” Face pumps up the bright yellow spray tank and starts fumigating the lobby. “The woman coughs and tries to get away from the fumes, forgetting about the telephone.   
Hannibal looks around, with worry evident on his face. “You’d better leave the building ma’am. I’ve never seen such a bad infestation in my life!”  
“Infestation?” she squeaks  
“Yes ma’am.” Face walks to her and takes off his mask. “Buprestis Turpis, nasty little creatures. Make roaches look like pets.” The secretary still doesn’t seem to be convinced so Hannibal surreptitiously drops a few bugs they collected on their way over on the desk. “Good lord, they are everywhere!” he exclaims. “Must be coming from the ceiling.” Face and Hannibal look up and Face starts spraying again. The woman inches her way to the door and leaves as soon as she can.

They fumigate themselves towards the main office where Face makes quick work of the locked door. Hannibal keeps on the lookout for the woman. Face starts rummaging through the file cabinets and picks the desk’s drawers. Not finding what he’s looking for he looks around the room pensively. His eye is caught by a big painting of a mousy looking man. Lifting it from the wall he smirks and whispers to Hannibal. “Safe.” Hannibal nods and moves to close the door so that Face can hear the tumblers fall without any sounds around him. After so many years of shooting guns, his ears have not been what they used to be and speed is of the essence. The third tumbler clicks into place and the door swings open. Face peers inside and sees a dog eared manila folder. Taking it out he can’t keep the smile from his face. ‘Bingo!’

Having collected everything they need they make their way outside again where the worried secretary is waiting for them to be finished.  
“Don’t worry about it ma’am. The fumes will be gone in a few hours.” Nodding numbly the woman turns to close the door while the duo drive away.


	7. Let's See Your Dirty Laundry

The four men are sitting around the kitchen table, looking over the evidence gathered. It’s a veritable well of dirty laundry and Face’s fingers itch to dig through it. Bank statements, insurance policies, everything they need to bring the scumbag down and everyone around him too.   
“It seems like this isn’t the first horse O’Connor lost, it happened at least two times before. See?” Face points at the insurance policies. “Every time a horse wins a race it’s worth increases up until a certain point. You can see that after the second appraisal these horses suddenly fall and have to be put down.” The conman sifts through the sheets of paper. “Each time, the insurance company paid out without any investigation on their part.” Fingering another document he shows it to the men. “These bank statements show that our Mr. Lawson received a generous sum of money after a policy was paid out to O’Connor. It’s brilliant!” Face keeps on explaining the finer points of insurance fraud, but Murdock tunes him out.

The pilot is rifling through the forms and legal papers, taking time to look at the photographs taken for insurance. These horses were all really something. Well built, speedy, gorgeous… His heart bleeds for them and their lives cut so incredibly short. All for money… Suddenly his eye is caught by something.  
“Say Face.” He interrupts Face’s lecture “What do you think of this?” He hands the conman the sheets and points at the name at the bottom of the veterinary documents for the dead horses.  
“Why is Carol Spencer’s name on every one of them?”

Night falls and Murdock walks through the stables whistling. His hands are stuffed deep inside his pockets and he burrows himself in his jacket, unused to the lower temperatures. B.A.’s working on some electronics and he shooed Murdock away. All traps have been set around the perimeter, so no one will get in or out without the team knowing about it. Murdock has some time to spare to enjoy the evening. While taking in the fresh smell of sawdust and the smell of the horses, he comes across a grey colt. Its nostrils are flaring when it tries to get a whiff of the stranger in front of his stall. It’s a sure winner. Murdock laughs before tenderly stroking the colts head and soft nose. “That there’s some name you have to live up to fella.” He looks over the animal appreciatively. “No wonder that O’Connor has his eyes set on ya.” The colt snorts and shakes his head. “Yes, I thought so too. I don’t know the man, but he don’t sound too good, does he.”

“You like him?” Murdock is startled by the soft spoken brunette that suddenly appears by his side. The woman extends her hand out to the pilot. “Hi, I’m Beth Spencer.” He looks at her hand for a second, like he doesn’t know what to do with it. The captain’s hands are curled up in tight fists as he tries to get his heart to slow down. Beth is starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the man’s weird reaction and tries to subtly inch away from him. It takes some convincing but finally he can get his fingers to uncurl and he shakes the woman’s hand. “H.M. Murdock.” Feeling self-conscious he wipes his hands on his kakis. “I’m sorry.” He says, his drawl even more pronounced than usual. His soulful brown eyes look anywhere but at her.

“No I should be apologizing.” Beth places a soft hand on his lower arm. She can feel the muscles tense against his will. “I should know better than to sneak up on people.” Beth giggles lightly, making the pilot relax. He smiles at her and turns to the horse.  
“He’s really something, ain’t he?” Murdock nods at the colt.  
“Yes, we think he is going to win tomorrow.” She laughs again. “Hence the name.” Her gorgeous brown eyes twinkle as she gazes deeply in Murdock’s eyes, making the pilot’s more southernly parts stir. _‘God, I really need to…”_ Murdock swallows at the direction his thoughts take him. _‘I need to get out more.’_   
Beth looks down shyly. “I better get to bed. Carol needs me first thing in the morning.”  
Murdock just nods mutely and watches the woman leave. He lets out the shuddering sigh he’d been holding and rubs his face. Hearing a snort coming from the stall he turns and glares at the colt from the corner of his eye. The pilot points a finger at him, waving it menacingly. “Now don’t you start laughing at me boy.”

Face is walking around the farmhouse looking for the elusive blonde. Maureen had been making herself scarce ever since finding out the contract’s gone. He finally finds her in one of the stalls cuddling up to an old bay horse. “Are you okay?” He asks after he hears a sigh that sounds suspiciously like a sniffle coming from her. She starts to nod, but thinks better of it.  
“No, I guess I’m not Mr. Peck.” She turns to him with teary eyes. “Who does something like that…?”  
Knowing a rhetorical question when he hears one he steps up to the woman and envelops her in a hug. “It’s going to be fine Maureen. And please call me Face.”  
Maureen hiccups and snorts out a laugh. “What kind of name is that.”  
Face smiles in her hair, before answering.


	8. Cat is in the Bag

Murdock is on guard duty when he spots a suspicious movement somewhere in the stables. He considers drawing his gun, but a gunshot would spook and probably injure the horses. He sure isn’t going to take that risk. He sneaks through the building, taking care not to step on anything that would make noise. Most of the horses are sleeping, but ‘Winnie’ the grey colt is watching him curiously. Murdock holds his finger to his lips to keep him silent. The animal flicks his ears, but seems to get the message. _‘Still got it.’_ Murdock thinks to himself contentedly. 

Midnight finds Face and Maureen strolling around the courtyard. After a good laugh and a discussion about names, Face could tell she was warming up to him. The moonlight is glinting of her blonde hair, making it look like spun silver. Reaching the shadow of the barn he turns to her and takes her hand in his. His other hand softly caresses her jaw and cheek. She looks up at him with those incredibly beautiful blue eyes and he leans in closer.

Reliving his combat years Murdock peeks around the corner to see a woman leave the veterinarians office in one of the side wings. She looks back and forth furtively and hastily walks away with a something in her hands. Murdock’s eyes narrow at her. When the moonlight hits her face he recognizes the same features Beth has. ‘That must be Carol then…’ He follows the woman, but as soon as he rounds the corner, she has disappeared. Taking a minute to think about how to go about the situation, the pilot decides to turn back the way he came. He hears something move, but before he can turn around the back of his head explodes in pain and everything goes black.

Just before he can swoop in for a kiss, Face sees Maureen’s eyes focus on something behind him and open wide in shock. Before he can turn around a musty smelling burlap sack is pulled over his head and held tight around his throat. An unexpected punch to the right kidney has him sagging and gasping. A click and the telltale feel of a gun barrel under his jaw.  
“You make any noise soldier boy, and the girl is dead.”  
Face’s thoughts are racing. He probably could get out of the choke hold, but with the gun and him not knowing how many men there are that move could be fatal. No better let them take them, and find a way to escape later. _‘Soldier boy eh… Now how would they know that?’_  
Hearing the muffled sound of Maureen panting, he guesses she’s been bagged too. Their hands are bound and they are quickly marched to a waiting pickup truck. Face is thrown in the back. He can feel the work boots of a man and, by the sound of it chambering a round, the barrel of a rifle. Maureen is being put in the cab of the car before they are driven off.

Face tries to keep track of their direction, but the burlap sack is making it very difficult to concentrate. After what seems like hours, but probably isn’t, of being bounced around on the hard steel truck bed, the truck comes to a grinding halt. Face is privately lamenting the loss of the fine suit he had been wearing. _‘Another one bites the dust’ Sigh…_ Gingerly working his muscles to get some feeling back in them, he tries to get a read on what’s going on around him. The men drag the struggling woman out of the car. “Ian, you son of a bitch!” Judging by their footfalls there must be at least four guys here. Suddenly the sack is ripped from his head and a beam from a flashlight hits his eyes, making him instinctively squint. 

“This one doesn’t look like much, does he. You sure he is one of the A-team?”  
One of the goons turns toward his boss. “I got a message from the house describing them. I’m sure he is that Peck guy.”  
Face glances at Maureen who seems to be fuming at the man holding the flash light. “You must be Ian O’Connor then. I would shake your hand but…” Face makes a show of wiggling his bound arms, smiling broadly. The conman is immediately rewarded for his efforts by a punch to the jaw. He feels blood well up in his mouth, but a quick check with his tongue tells him there are no loose teeth. “Why do they always go for the face!” he wines.  
Ian spits at his feet. “Take them to the shed. I’ll deal with him later.”

The duo is thrown down harshly onto the floor of the toolshed. Face is dragged up by the lapels of his jacket and O’Connor gets into his face.  
“Don’t try to be a hero soldier boy.” Face’s nose wrinkles at the smell of alcohol on the man’s breath. The guy continues. “It will be a matter of time when I have the whole lot of you. Then I’ll call the military and have my reward.” He smirks and drops the conman on the floor hard. The door slams closed behind them. Both of them are panting slightly. Face squints through the darkness. He can vaguely make out the blonde woman trying to wiggle herself up.  
“Are you all right? He asks her softly  
Maureen huffs angrily, but doesn’t deem the question worthy of an answer. Face chuckles. He looks at the tools lying around the shed and spots a small knife. He rolls onto his knees and gets up stiffly with a groan.  
“What are you doing?!” Maureen hisses at him.  
Face turns his back to the tool bench and blindly feels around for the knife. “Escaping.”

Murdock comes to with a groan. He faintly hears the melodic voice of Beth calling out his name. Something cool is wiping his face and he leans into the hand. Opening his eyes slowly, he gazes in the beautiful brown eyes of… B.A.! Murdock instinctively whips his head back only to have stars explode behind his eyes. “Unng…” He covers his eyes with his hands.  
“Easy there, Captain.” Murdock can feel Hannibal’s hand on his shoulder, keeping him down. Slowly the pilot opens his eyes again and starts taking stock of his condition. He gingerly feels the back of his head with his fingers, finding a big lump. _‘That explains the headache then.’_ He blinks a few times before pushing himself up slowly. _‘No nausea, that’s a good sign.’_ He’s on a couch in the farmhouse living room. He looks around at the people surrounding him before furrowing his brow.  
“Where’s Face?”


	9. A Shot in the Dark

Face starts sawing through the ropes binding his wrists. He nicks his own arms from time to time and very quickly, the knife becomes slippery with blood. The lieutenant grits his teeth and tries to keep a good grip on the handle. He can feel the rope fraying and soon his arms fly free.  
“Ah much better.” Face works his arms and shoulders to get the kinks out. He turns to free Maureen, taking care not to cut her.  
“Why are your hands wet?” She asks him curiously.  
Face is momentarily distracted from his work. He’d forgotten about the blood. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it darling.” Soon the woman’s hands are freed and she rubs her raw wrists.  
“I’m not your darling.” Maureen huffs at the lieutenant. “What now?”  
Face reaches down. The goons took everything from his pockets including his gun. But they forgot to check his socks. He fishes out his trusty picks and starts to work on the lock. It’s an old model and it clicks open in seconds. Face smirks at Maureen in the silver moonlight.  
“Now we try to find a car.”

Murdock has some trouble keeping his eyes open in the well-lit living room. Beth slides into his view wearing silk pajamas, holding a glass of water and some painkillers. She hands the glass to him, her fingers lingering on his for a moment. He mumbles his thanks, feeling his cheeks heat up and she smiles at him. After swallowing the pills, he squints up at the colonel. “So what’s the deal, Colonel?”  
Hannibal takes out his cigar and lights it. Beth shoots him an annoyed look, but doesn’t complain. The colonel starts pacing back and forth in front of the unlit fireplace. Murdock closes his eyes again. The pacing is making him dizzy. He can feel Beth’s warm hands rubbing his shoulder and he starts to relax. The sweet smell of cigars fills the air. The antique clock chimes twice.

Hannibal looks at the weary pilot. “When you didn’t call in for your regular check I tried to contact Face, but got no reply. We found you in the stables knocked out cold.” The colonel looks at B.A. “None of the warnings we set up, went off.” Taking a drag from his cigar, Hannibal looks pensive. He looks at everyone in the room. “It seems that we have someone on the inside, guys.  
Beth gasps, looking up at the colonel in shock. Murdock instinctively puts his arm around the woman for support. Some fuzzy memory tries to push itself to the front of his mind, but for the life of him, he can’t make sense of it. 

Face is creeping along the tool shed wall. He knows that their light hair will glow in the moonlight so he is trying to keep as much to the shadows as possible and Maureen stumbles along on her high heels. Face is suppresses the increasingly overwhelming need to sigh. No sense in complaining now. In his opinion, she’s already done enough complaining for the both of them. To his left, he spots the pickup truck they must have arrived in. Damn it, it is parked in full view of the house! None of the lights seem to be on though. He rubs his face, there's no going back now. He'll just have to be quick. He turns to Maureen to find her staring at his blood stained sleeves. “You’re bleeding!” She whispers. Face tries to smile reassuringly and shakes his head. He puts his finger to his lips. He's definitely an unhappy camper right now. With no weapons, no cover and a woman under his wing. Could things get even worse?!

He sighs, well here goes nothing. He crouches and with a quick dash he makes it to the parked vehicle. He holds his breath, his heart hammering in his throat. Nothing seems to disturbed by his actions and he exhales with a huff. Making his way to the right hand door he tries the handle. It’s unlocked! He quickly waves Maureen over to him and motions for her to get in the car. As silently as possible he clicks the door shut and makes his way to the other side.  
He gets in quickly and starts rummaging around under the steering wheel, trying to find the right wires. 

“So the Faceman got taken?” Murdock asks Hannibal who reaches into his pocket and fishes out a well-worn rosary. Murdock’s eyes lock onto the beaded string and he sighs. He remembers the dark skinned Reverend that gave Face the rosary. They were in Cam Ranh Bay during their recuperation from their stay in the Hanoi Hilton. Face wasn’t really the religious type, but after… Murdock shudders. He guessed that Face needed something to hold on to. Something that’s supposed to last forever.  
“Maureen too…?” Beth swallows a small sob and hides her face in the pilot’s shoulder. They hear stumbling in the hallway before the door opens to reveal a rather disheveled looking Carol. She immediately goes to her sister and embraces her. Murdock narrows his eyes at her. There is something about her, he just doesn’t trust. Hannibal watches the exchange with a thoughtful expression on his face. A quick looks at B.A. tells him that the big black man has noticed it too.  
‘Better keep an eye on her.’

Face spots movement from the corner of his eye. A glint in someone’s hand.  
“Watch out!”  
He pushes the woman down out of sheer instinct when a loud bang sounds out and a searing pain of almost exquisite quality explodes in his left shoulder. He gasps breathlessly, when the bullet rips through muscle and bone and out the other side. Maureen can feel Face’s body jerking on top of her and something warm and sticky dripping in her hair and down her neck, making her scream. Glass is raining down on them from the driver side window of the car he’d been trying to hotwire. Face can feel the woman screaming under his arms, but he can’t hear anything beyond the ringing in his own ears. Two more shots go off before all is quiet and the door is ripped open.

Face is dragged out of the car by the scruff of his neck and deposited on the dirty ground. He groans, his blue eyes looking up at the stars in a daze. He’s having trouble remembering where he is for a moment. He briefly considers letting the darkness consume him, when a bucket of cold water is dumped in his face. Face gasps and sputters and is roughly hauled onto his feet. His knees almost buckle, but when he hears Maureen scream out his name, he shakes his head to clear it. No time for weakness right now.

Face and Maureen are marched into a room and Face is dropped unceremoniously onto his knees. He can feel his blood running down his back and chest, it’s making him light headed and shaky. His left arm is hanging uselessly by his side. He tries to get a feel for his heart rate, but a swift kick to his stomach prevents him from getting a good read.  
“Face!”  
“I warned you not to try to be a hero, didn’t I.”  
“I guess I’m getting hard of hearing in my old age.” Face quips, panting and out of breath. Ian pulls back for another kick, but seems to think better of it.  
“Get Greenville Downs on the phone. I wonder what your leader has to say about this.”


	10. Old Friends, New Enemies

The group is startled when the sudden ringing of the phone cuts through the charged atmosphere. Hannibal puts his thought about Carol to the side and immediately puts it on speaker phone.  
“Is this the A-team?” a male voice sounds through the speaker.  
“That depends.” Hannibal replies while chewing his cigar. “Who’s asking.”  
They faintly hear someone being dragged upright and walked to the phone. A groan sounds out in a very recognizable voice.   
“Hi there Hannibal.” Face is panting and sweat is coating his face and neck. He starts to sway but is held upright by two of the goons. “Thanks guys” he jeers at them with a sneer on his face.  
“How are you holding up lieutenant?” At the sound of his commander’s voice Face almost lets out a relieved sob. His thinking is starting to become increasingly slow due to the blood loss, and he knows that any information has to be given now.  
“Ah well, you know me Colonel. I’m fit as a fiddle. No biggie.” Face is punched in the stomach and he falls on his hand and knees retching. He just needs to get one more piece of information to the colonel.

They can clearly hear Maureen screaming expletives in the background. Beth burrows herself into Murdock’s side as far as she can go. The pilot holds her and whispers reassurances in her ear. His jaw is set and his hard eyes focused on the phone. Face’s voice comes through again, but much fainter and shakier than before. “Remember grampa’s best friend? They always had each other’s backs.”  
“Shut up you fool!” The first voice can be heard clearly across the room. “If you want to see your buddy again, you will bring that horse to the race tomorrow! And if you don’t…”  
Face’s voice suddenly raises from a muffled moan to a full blown scream. B.A. is up on his feet in an instant. His arms bulging in agitated anger.  
“Don’t you touch my lil' brother!”  
“Face!”  
“Or what?” the man laughs as another scream is torn from Face’s throat before it cut’s off suddenly.  
“Face, wake up! Face!” the woman screams in desperation.  
“Tomorrow, at Saratoga, be there!”  
Click… The line goes silent.

Both Carol and Beth have their hands clasped over their mouths. The men look at each other with grim expressions on their faces.   
“The Faceman is hurting bad, man.” B.A. looks ready to punch something. Murdock subtly touches his friend’s arm, trying to keep him calm. Hannibal looks at his chewed up cigar and puts it down. It’s no good anymore. He’s mentally going over the things his lieutenant had said. Years ago, the team had agreed on a certain set of coded messages. Fit as a fiddle meant hurt, not too badly, but in need of saving. No biggie, a stab or bullet wound in a non-lethal place. Hannibal thought he hadn’t heard a limp, so that meant an arm or shoulder. Face let them know that he would be fine until they could save him, but not to take too long. It’s the second part of the message that puzzles him.  
Murdock squeezes Beth’s shoulders, stands up gingerly and wanders into the parlor. B.A. keeps close to the wavering pilot, just in case. 

Hannibal turns to the ladies, “If you please excuse us.” and follows his men to the parlor. Murdock doesn’t even turn on the lights before walking to the side table. His uncanny ability to find his way in any situation evident in the way he moves. The colonel swears that Murdock has bats in his ancestry somewhere. The pilot picks up the photograph of Darlington sr. and his friend and turns it over. Patting down his pockets for his trusty army knife, he snaps it open and cuts the back from the frame.  
“What are you doing?!” Beth asks from the door. She hastily makes her way to Murdock to try and snatch the frame from his hands. “Maureen will be furious!” Holding it above her head he removes the cardboard back and a folded piece of paper flutters to the ground. Beth reaches down to pick up the paper and unfolds it. Her eyes widen in shock and she looks into Murdock’s brown eyes.  
“This is…”   
He nods. “That’s the original contract.”

Maureen is taken to a windowless back room and pushed roughly inside. Face regained consciousness while being dragged between two goons. He weakly tries to get his feet under him and his weight off his arm, but they won’t let him. They laugh when he grunts in pain.  
“Have fun with him sweetheart.” The men throw Face on the filthy floor and leave the room, locking the door. Face lies on the floor panting and shivering, trying to regain his bearings. After a few minutes he agonizingly slowly rolls over and props himself up against the wall. Maureen watches his progress with mixed feelings, eventually settling on anger.  
“Why didn’t you call for help?"  
Face debates answering her, but decides he hasn’t got the strength for an altercation with her right now. “Why didn’t you?!” her voice breaks and she's close to crying. Frustrated with the man’s continued silence she screams. “Answer me!”

Face has had enough. “It’s not like I wanted to get shot, now was it!” He leans his head against the wall panting harshly now, unable to say anything more.  
Maureen gazes at the lieutenant in the flickering light of the old lightbulb. From the blossoming bloodstain on his shirt and jacket to his sweaty hair. He’s miserable, wet and obviously in a lot of pain. Her frustrated fury dissipates almost instantly and she wipes away her angry tears. She moves closer to Face and notices him flinch, like he expects her to slap him. Sniffling, she rips strips of fabric from her blouse to make him a make shift sling.  
“Face, I’m sorry.” His bleary blue eyes open to look at her and he smiles faintly. He pats her hand with his bloodied right one. She unbuttons his shirt and slowly peels it away from the wound, making him hiss.  
“’Sssallright… stopped bleeding…” Maureen isn’t feeling in the least reassured but sits down next to him, taking some of his weight. “Been through… war… y' know..." Face is starting to lean against her more heavily. "I’m gonna… gonna be fine…” his ragged breating slows down and it doesn’t take long for him to pass out leaving Maureen to deal with her fears on her own. 


	11. To the Races

  
The early light wakes up the two sleeping team members from their uneasy slumber. Hannibal had been up all night to figure out a plan. Now he needs the stuff to do it. After the women had retreated to their own rooms, the team had discussed the probability that one of the sisters was or knew their inside man. They decided to keep them in the dark about the plan for now. They need to keep an eye on Carol. Murdock didn’t seem to trust her. Sadly, the whack to the head had all but erased the last few seconds of that evening. Leaving him with just a feeling.

Beth is outside getting Winnie ready for the big race today. The stables are swarming with people, getting the horses into their trailers and ready to leave for the Saratoga track. Murdock walks through the corridor to the kitchen when a voice sounds through the empty house.   
“Yes… Hello, is this Barclay insurance?... hmm hmm…” Murdock sneaks closer to the open door. “Yes, I want to increase the existing policy to 500.000… hmm hmm…” The pilot sneaks a peak around the corner and spots Carol on the phone. “Yes, it’s going to be quite something… All right, thank you. Bye…” Murdock slinks away along the wall to the kitchen where he busies himself by pouring himself a cup of coffee. The door to the study closes and he hears boots coming closer. Carol heads for the back door when Murdock greets her, making her jump.  
“Oh goodness, I didn’t see you there.” Murdock nods at her, but doesn’t speak. “Well I…” Carol looks nervously between the pilot and the study. “I eh… I’d better get out there.” She says before practically fleeing through the door. Murdock narrows his dark eyes, glaring over the rim of his mug, before taking a sip of his coffee.

Maureen feels the heat coming from the slumbering lieutenant. During the night she helped him out of his jacket and shoulder holster before tying the arm to his side, immobilizing it. His wound must have become infected. She's getting worried. He’s been shivering constantly and his breathing has worsened. For the past half hour, he has been panting and murmuring beneath his breath. She tried to understand what he has been saying but when she finally did, she wishes she could un hear it. “Please… please…” The whispered word spills from his lips on every labored exhalation.  
“Ssshhh…” Maureen props up Face’s head on her lap, brushing his hair from his sweaty brow. She accidentally taps his bound arm, earning her a groan. “Sorry.” She whispers before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m really sorry…” Maureen can’t stop the sob that bursts from her throat, nor the next one. Before she knows it, she is crying over a man she didn’t think too highly of on first meeting.

Hannibal and B.A. are making their way over to the O’Connor farmstead. The plan is for Murdock to stay with the women and oversee the exchange at the race track. B.A and Hannibal are going to rescue their lost lieutenant and Maureen from the filthy hands of Ian O’Connor. The fact that the man knows they are the A-team means that their cover was blown. Sadly, this also means the military is probably hot on their tails and a hospital is out of the question. Puffing on his ever present cigar he thinks about his options.  
They wait, well hidden from the main road, for O’Connor and his goons to leave the farm. They don’t have to wait for long, before a pickup truck with one window out, peels away in the direction of the track. B.A. looks at the speeding car with disdain, his hands squeezing and twisting the steering wheel. Hannibal’s eyes are drawn to the left when the steering wheel starts to make distressed creaking sounds.

“Stand down, Sergeant.” The colonel sees the big muscles bulge even more, before relaxing slightly. He puts a hand on the big guy’s shoulder.  
“I don’t like it Hannibal…” The man growls.  
“We’re going to get him. You got the tracker?” Hannibal chews out around his cigar. B.A.’s bejeweled fingers point at the glove box. Hannibal takes it out and turns it on, before dialing in to the right frequency. Each of the team members has one of B.A.’s miniature tracking devices somewhere on their person. Hannibal used to scoff at the mechanic for tinkering with the tiny electronics, but he has to admit that they have been helpful on several occasions already. Face has his in his wristwatch. It took some convincing for the conman to give up his ‘hard earned’ Rolex, but in the end he caved. Hannibal looks at the tiny screen in slight dismay. The red dot is speeding away quickly. There’s no way the lieutenant was in the pickup that just left, so that meant that O’Connor probably snatched it for himself. ‘Dammit!’ Hannibal turns off the device.  
“Okay B.A. new plan…”

Murdock arrives at the race track and immediately loses sight of the two sisters. Cursing to himself he weaves through the crowd of horses and handlers looking for either sister or the grey colt he’s supposed to protect. Just as he is about to allow himself a tiny bout of panic he spots Beth with Winnie. Sighing deeply, he pulls down his cap and makes his way to the woman.  
“Hey, where did you go?” She asks him surprised, while trying to keep the horse under control. “What’s the matter with you today! Sheesh…”  
“I jus’ got lost, I guess.” Murdock shrugs his shoulders and starts petting the colt to calm him. “What’s ta matter boy, you don’t like it here?”  
“It started last night… when you were hurt.” Beth looks at up at him, her perfect heart shaped face and soft lips calling to him. She reaches up to run her fingers through the hair on his neck. Murdock winces and catches her hand. “Sorry.” She looks down sadly.  
“Hey now, little lady.” The pilot puts his finger under her chin and tilts her face so he can look into her eyes. He completely forgets what he wants to say when she instinctively moves closer to him. His hand finds the soft curve of her waist and the other moves from her chin to her cheek, his thumb running along her lips. She quivers and suddenly all the sounds and smells disappear leaving only him and her. Dipping down he presses a gentle kiss to her lips. Feeling her tongue dart out, Murdock groans and deepens the kiss.


	12. Saved

The colonel is putting the last details on his disguise. A black wig, hair slicked back. Designer sunglasses and one of B.A.’s gold necklaces to finish the look. The fact that they knew who Face was, means they also probably know what the rest of them look like. They just can’t take the risk. They need to get an indication of the number of goons left behind, before staging a rescue. After parking the car in the courtyard, Hannibal gets out and saunters toward the farm house like he owns the place.  
“Can I help you?” A man in his 40’s with greasy dark hair and sunken eyes approaches the colonel warily. Hannibal straightens his jacket and takes a deep breath for his best NYC imitation.

“I’m looking for Ian O’Cawnah!”  
“What do you want with him?” The man crosses his arms and glares at him.  
“Whatsit to ya?!” Hannibal answers confidently and looks around the terrain for any sign of their lost team member.  
“I asked you, what do you want with him? Lou!” Another man stumbles out of the house, this one clearly hung over. When no other men seem to be forthcoming, Hannibal smirks. ‘This is going to be a piece of cake.’ The colonel takes off his sunglasses and takes off the wig. “He has something that belongs to me.” Both goons take a step back at the look in Hannibal’s steely eyes. B.A. gets out of the car and heads for the men, cracking his knuckles.  
The two men start and fumble for the guns hidden in their waistbands, but a fast right hook from B.A. knocks one of the men out before he can even get the safety off. The colonel grabs the other man by the throat and slams his head into the wall.

“Now, you listen to me punk.” Hannibal reaches behind the man and takes out the gun. “If you don’t want to end up like your friend Lou over there, you’re gonna show us where you keep my lieutenant!” One look from the huge black sergeant has the man swallowing any retort he may have made. He meekly nods and the colonel releases him. Hannibal glances at the gun in his hands. It’s Face’s. Suddenly he’s flooded with fury at the pitiful excuse of a man before him. Before he can punch him in the jaw, B.A. steps into his vision barking at the guy keeping Hannibal at bay.  
“Move sucka!”  
The scared man leads them to back room inside the house. Blood stains on the wood floor and the fact that the ancient lock hasn’t been picked yet is a testament to the condition of his friend and it’s making his blood boil.  
“Open it!” B.A. grabs the guy by the scruff of his neck and shakes him for emphasis. With shaking hands, the man reaches inside his pocket for the keys. Hannibal snatches them from his hands and tries to find the correct key. When the lock clicks open he nods at the sergeant. B.A. quickly spins the greasy guy around and knocks him out, dropping him to the ground like a stone.

Hannibal opens the door and is immediately assaulted by the smell of blood. Maureen is sitting propped up against the far wall, squinting up at the light. Her hair is matted with blood and her face pale and drawn. Face is lying on his back with his head on her lap. His breath is rasping in his lungs and his cheeks are red with fever. With a few quick steps Hannibal makes his way to the duo and starts checking Face over. Blue eyes open weakly at the sudden prodding.  
“Hannibal…” Face groans and tries to wiggle away from the prying hands.  
“Easy there, soldier.” Face nods and his eyes drift shut. Hannibal looks at the woman. “Are you all right?” Maureen nods silently but doesn’t stop running her fingers through Face’s hair. Staring in the distance, she looks in shock. “B.A.!” The sergeant enters the room and almost takes a step back when the smell hits him. The colonel resumes his check of the younger man’s wounds. He nods at the unconscious goon right outside the door.

“Tie them up and gag them. We still have two hours before the exchange, so we better make use of the time.” Hannibal brushes his hand against Face’s forehead before speaking softly. “Face…” The wounded man scrunches up his face and opens his eyes with difficulty. “Listen to me, kid. I’m going to clear the kitchen table and get the medical supplies from the car.” He sees the moment Face’s breath speeds up. Hannibal feels like the time he had to leave the kid behind in the jungle to vector in Murdock. It had been mere minutes, but for a wounded and scared soldier it had probably seemed like hours.  
“Ssshhh…” Maureen takes the lieutenant’s bloodied right hand in hers and holds on tight. “You’re not alone…”  
Hannibal can only imagine what Face has said in his fevered dreams, but it can’t have been pretty. He looks upon the woman with new eyes. The colonel reaches inside his pocket and pulls out the rosary. He carefully opens Face’s left hand and puts the rosary in it. The lieutenant’s long fingers immediately start fingering the beads in time to his moving lips. Hannibal pats the hand and moves to get the stuff he needs.

After clearing and cleaning the table they lie Face’s fevered body down on top it. The colonel starts cutting away the shirt and soaks the fabric away from the wound. Face lies on his side, gasping and holding on to the tables edge like his life depends on it. Removing the belt from his pants he puts it between the lieutenants teeth. Knowing what’s coming, Face bites down on it hard. Taking the antiseptic mix and tweezers, Hannibal starts cleaning the wounds, eliciting a moan not quite scream from Face. After thoroughly cleaning the wound from all debris and wrapping it tightly the lieutenant is left shaking badly.  
“You sure you don’t want the morphine?” Face weakly shakes his head, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. The morphine makes him sick to his stomach and drunken vomiting isn’t something he’s looking forward to.   
“B.A., start cooling him down. His fever is really high.” Hannibal looks at the clock and sighs. ‘Only one hour left before we have to load him in the car.’ He looks Maureen who has been sitting by Face’s head all throughout the procedure, softly pressing kisses into his sweat soaked hair and whispering encouragements. Tears are running down her face, but the pained lieutenant remains oblivious to them.


	13. Hands Up

Murdock and the two women wait anxiously by the announcers box for the team to arrive. The first set of races have been finished with Winnie the winner of one, and there is a lull in activity. Murdock scans the people around him for any familiar faces. His eyes narrowed in worry under his blue base-ball cap. He has the almost irrepressible urge to pace and talk. Only the presence of Beth and Carol has him bury the crazy deep, deep down where no one can find it. He knows he apparently isn’t keeping all of it down though when he sees both women’s puzzled looks when they catch him talking with the horses. He had felt incredibly guilty after Winnie had nipped him in the upper arm. Breaking the kiss, he’d practically fallen over himself apologizing. What kind of friend is he, that he could even think about such things when his best friend’s out there hurting! In a distant kind of way he knows that it probably is a reaction to the stress. So many soldiers drowned themselves in booze and women back then, but ‘Dammit I ain’t in Nam now am I!’ Murdock clenches his jaws in a nervous habit. He really likes the softly spoken Beth though. ‘Maybe after the mission…’

The pilot’s eye is drawn to three men heading in their direction. He’d spotted them earlier, but they kept to themselves, talking and laughing.   
“We be havin’ company, ladies.” The middle man looks over the pilot appraisingly and isn’t overly worried by what he sees. Murdock isn’t bothered by it. It wouldn’t be the first man to underestimate him, that has to pick up his teeth afterwards. He glances at the clock. ‘10 more minutes.’  
“Beth, Carol…”  
“Ian” Carol greets him coldly.  
“You are looking as lovely as ever.” Ian smirks at the women. “Do you have the paperwork?”  
Carol reaches in bag to retrieve the dog eared folder when they hear a car squeal to a stop nearby. Immediately Murdock snatches up the papers and throws them into the air using the confusion to attack Ian. He’s soon joined by Hannibal and B.A. who join the fray. Punches are thrown and B.A. picks up one of the goons to throw him over the benches when a shot rings out. They all duck and Murdock turns towards the sound to see Beth holding a gun aimed straight at his head. He raises his hands and slowly steps backwards. 

“Nice job Beth.” Ian smiles broadly, cocking his gun and aiming it at Hannibal. The goons come in and take the guns from the team, leaving them unarmed.  
“Beth?” Carol asks bewildered. “You were in on it?”  
“Don’t act like you didn’t know Carol! You must have noticed the ketamine missing!”  
“Beth?” Another voice rings out. Maureen arrives with a pasty looking Face draped over her shoulder. They both look haggard and bloodied, but alive. Murdock feels his knees go weak from relief and he catches himself on the table. He feels some buttons under his fingertips and a quick glance tells him that they are for the microphones mounted on the table. Making use of the distraction provided by Face and Maureen he subtly presses the button.

“YOU took the ketamine?!” Carol cries out.  
“Damn right I did. I miscalculated the dosage, but hey that’s life.” Beth shrugs and moves closer to Ian. “Your name already was on the paperwork, so you actually made things easy for us. Now pick up the papers.” She tells her sister while motioning the gun at her. Carol looks at Beth like she can’t believe her eyes, but Ian aiming his gun at her head has her scrambling for the documents. Hannibal had noticed Murdock doing something near the microphones and a quick glance between the two men was enough for him to get the message.  
“So O’Connor…” Hannibal pauses for emphasis. “Why did you do it?”  
Ian laughs at the colonel. “Might as well tell you, because you will soon be dead anyway.” He smirks evilly at the wounded lieutenant sitting on the bleachers, propped up by Maureen.

Beth smiles lovingly up at the man while Ian resumes his monologue. “Beth has been a great help so far. Swindling the insurance company was her idea.” He laughs and leans down to passionately kiss her. “My grandfather was an idiot for setting a number on horses delivered.” The man’s face twists in anger. “That horse should have been mine!”   
“No!” Maureen shouts out “We had a contract!”  
“What, the one that isn’t in your safe or this one?” Beth reaches inside her bra and takes out a folded piece of paper.   
“Beth…” Maureen trails off, trying to wrap her head around the betrayal. Face squeezes her shoulders lightly in support.  
“Don’t you Beth me, Maureen! You and Carol are the same. You know you had it coming! Always prancing around, always the popular girls, but never any thought spared for me!”  
“You are going to keep breeding horses for me.” Ian tells Maureen in no uncertain terms while advancing on her. “Or else you get to feel what ketamine does to the human body.” Suddenly they notice the hush around them. Everybody at the track seems to be staring at them. And two police officers who were having a great time at the races stand up drawing their weapons, heading for the announcers box. Ian looks at a smirking Murdock near the microphones. Their ‘on air’ light burning bright red. Feeling trapped he lunges for Maureen, fully intent on making it hurt.

What happens next, feels almost like it's in slow motion. Face painfully pushes himself up to intercept the livid man. B.A. and Hannibal lunge for the two goons that are distracted by their boss expertly knocking them out. Carol dives for the folded contract Beth is holding, knocking aside the gun making Beth squeeze off a shot by accident. The sound of the gun going off seems impossibly loud in their ears. Trying to guess the trajectory of the speeding bullet Hannibal spots Face, sagging to the floor. Maureen is fighting off Ian, her teeth bared, with B.A. rearing his fist back for a punch to the man’s head. Carol is on the ground, grappling with her sister for the contract.  
“Face!” He calls out to the lieutenant receiving no other answer than a blank stare. Suddenly feeling dread curl in his stomach Hannibal turns to follow the blond’s gaze.  
 _‘Oh no…'_


	14. Time for Some Cameoflage

Turning around toward the microphones Hannibal sees Murdock stare at his own hand coated in blood. A big red stain starts to bloom on the right side of his abdomen. He never even got beyond the seats before the shot went off. Murdock looks up in shock gasping for air. Hannibal had never seen B.A. move that quickly, because the moment the pilot’s legs give out the big black man dives across the seats and catches the pilot in his arms. He faintly hears voices shouting for them to drop their weapons, but can’t move. One of the police officers moves into his line of sight and grabs his shoulder making time slam into gear again.

The officer looks older, and more seasoned than his partner. Hannibal looks at the man in a daze. Off to the side Face is helped up by Maureen and a few helpful bystanders. B.A. is shouting for help while Murdock’s white hands futilely try to hold on to the sergeant. The police officer and the colonel make eye contact and seem to come to an understanding. The cop steps aside and Hannibal rushes towards the fallen pilot, trying to assess the situation. Murdock has his jaws clenched tightly together and is breathing harshly through his teeth. B.A. is keeping pressure on the wound. Making quick work of the pilot’s bomber jacket and T-shirt he uses the latter to mop up the blood.  
“Colonel… How’s it look!”  
“Looks like you’re going to live to see another day Captain.”  
“With how many… times… I’ve been… shot…” Murdock needs a moment to catch his breath before a tight smile appears on his face. “You would think… that I’d be used to it… by now…” B.A. resumes putting pressure on the wound, making Murdock throw his head back, moaning in pain.

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill every single one of you!” Ian is practically foaming at the mouth. “Arrest them! They are the A-team, arrest them!” Beth wiggles herself out of the hands holding her and dives for the papers. Her face paling as she looks at them. “No…” She is hauled back up on her feet by the crowd and cuffed too. “No! Their empty! Where are the papers? Carol?!”

The cop sits down on his haunches beside the bleeding man. “The ambulance will be here in 3 minutes.” He takes out his notebook and scribbles a name onto it. “He will be taken to Saratoga Hospital under this alias. We use it for our informants. Use this code word…” The cop looks at Hannibal. “I never saw you if you leave now.”  
Wringing her hands in obvious agitation, Carol kneels beside Murdock and B.A. The pilot is looking pale and sweaty, unconsciously trying to push B.A’s hand away from his injury.  
“B.A. we have to leave.”  
“No man, we can’t.” The sergeant starts to protest. “Fool, needs blood.”  
“No, B.A…” Murdock mumbles. “Gonna be… fine…” He reaches for Carol’s hand and moves it over his side. “Pressure here darlin’…” The brunette complies and pushes on the wound as soon as B.A. let’s up earning her a deep guttural groan. “Oh God…”  
"I'm so sorry!" Carol almost let's go but Murdock keeps her hands in place.   
"Y'r doin' fine..." Murdock slurs heavily and Carol tries to ignore the blood seeping from between her fingers. She cries silently and Murdock gazes up at her beautiful face marred with tears. The cop returns to their side. “Move now!”  
“B.A.!” Hannibal barks out the name.  
The black sergeant grabs the pilot’s neck and head with his bloodstained hand. “Don’t die on me crazy man.” Murdock clutches B.A.’s arm in return, blood smearing all over his dark skin. Brown eyes meeting brown and he nods, before squeezing his eyes shut. They peel out just as the ambulance arrives on the scene.

Evening finds the Hannibal in a hospital room with an unconscious pilot. While they were on the road, Face all but collapsed in the back seat. Seeing no other option than to rent a room, the team holed up in one of Saratoga’s motels. A quick call to the hospital revealed that Murdock was currently undergoing surgery. They would let them know when he would be put in a recovery room.  
They laid Face down on one of the beds. Hannibal took the time to flush out his wound again, but the fever didn’t seem to be abating. The colonel sighs and rubs his face warily. He feels like a man dying from thirst in an ocean of undrinkable water. Being in a hospital, surrounded by everything he needs to ease the lieutenants suffering, but not being able get it is excruciating.

Hannibal hears a sigh like sound coming from the bed and he stands up from the hard plastic chair, his back popping. He moves towards the slowly awakening man in the bed. Murdock’s eyes open a sliver before slipping closed again. It takes a few tries for him to be able to keep them open and focus on the room. His brown eyes wander aimlessly through the room before finally settling on the colonel.  
“How are you feeling Captain?”  
Murdock tries a few times to speak but no sounds comes from his lips. Instead he opts for soundlessly mouthing his question. “Face…”   
Hannibal swallows dryly and puts his hand on the captain’s shoulder, keeping his gaze focused on himself. “Face is going to be fine son.” He tries to convey all of his strength as a commander, hiding his own fears. Murdock’s eyes slid closed again against his will and he nods, showing the same deep rooted trust the lieutenant had shown him just this morning. Hannibal's heart constricts painfully, feeling the younger man’s muscles relax in sleep.

He is rudely startled from his thoughts by someone clearing his throat. He looks up to see an older doctor checking Murdock’s vitals. Hannibal could see that the doctor probably used to be a lady killer in his younger years. What used to be dark hair is steaked with silver and his blue eyes focused on his work. Without looking at the colonel, the doctor speaks up.  
“I heard you have another man down?” His expression guarded, Hannibal checks out the doctor, but doesn’t answer. The doctor sighs. “This one is going to make a full recovery. I had to remove a small part of his lower intestine and suture several bleeds, but other than that he’s a very lucky man.”  
“When will we be able to move him?”  
The doctor straightens his back and writes something down on the clipboard. “I made an oath to help those in need. I don’t know who you are and frankly I don’t care.” He looks the colonel straight in his eyes.  
“Let’s see your other man first. Then we’ll talk.”

Weighing his options, Hannibal knows he has no choice but to trust this doctor. After giving him a rundown of the situation, the doctor grabs his things and several supplies before meeting him at the back of the hospital. They drive to the motel in silence. Upon entering the motel room, the smell of sickness hits them with a vengeance. Face is lying flat on his back, drenched in sweat and his chest heaving. B.A. looks up and unconsciously moves to shield Face.  
The doctor ignores the heated glances thrown his way and moves towards the ailing lieutenant. With swift movements he uncovers the shoulder wound and starts prodding at it. Rolling Face carefully over on his side he checks his back before laying him flat again. The man sighs, seeing the small rosary clasped tightly in the man’s hand.  
“It has been some time since I last saw something like this. All we need is the sweet sound of shells dropping and the picture is complete.”  
The colonel looks up in surprise. “Vietnam?”  
“No, Korea actually. I used to be a surgeon in a MASH unit there.” The doctor checks Face’s vitals and does not like what he finds. “His fever is a 103, heart rhythm thready, this man needs a hospital.”

Hannibal sags into a nearby chair, his energy levels suddenly drained. “We can’t.” He puts his face in his hands in a rare show of despair. “We are wanted by the military.”  
Looking at the dejected man in the chair and the big black guy hovering over his injured friend like a mother hen, the doctor makes a decision.  
“Well, I can’t say I’m a big fan of the military anyway.” He extends a hand to the colonel, blue eyes twinkling. “I'm Dr. Pierce, but you can call me Hawkeye.”


	15. Barking Dogs Don't Bite

It takes a whole night of hauling ice to keep the lieutenants temperature down. The doctor immediately started putting in several IV lines with saline, blood plasma serum and wide range antibiotics. He did not like the ashen tint to the man’s face, but thankfully that gradually disappeared during the long hours of caring for him. Hawkeye couldn’t help but notice the old scars littering the young man’s upper body. The same kind that he’d found on the other man.  
Hannibal had noticed the looks the doctor had been stealing at the scars and addressed the situation by saying a single word. “POW.” Hawkeye had looked up sadly before nodding. He’d seen his fair share of prisoners of war during his time in Korea. It never was pretty. 

Just before first light there seemed to be a breakthrough. The fever finally dropped to more manageable levels after spiking dangerously high several times. Hawkeye rubs his eyes tiredly. He’s definitely getting too old to do these kinds of things. A few hours with just a few winks of sleep later the fever broke completely. Heaving a huge sigh of relief, he gathers his stuff and heads for the door before turning to the exhausted men.  
“Get some sleep Colonel. I will call you as soon as I can arrange for your other man’s release.” Hawkeye heads home for a nice hot shower and a few hours of sleep. Thankfully Mrs. Pierce is at a medical convention, so there will be no nagging at this hour in the morning.

Feeling slightly refreshed he heads to the hospital to check on his other patient when he hears raised voices in the waiting room. Upon entering the building he spots a gaggle of military men, harassing his nurses.  
“I demand to see your patient!”  
“I told you Sir, our records are confidential.” The man tries to get past the nurse but she won’t let him.  
“Do you have any idea who I am?! You are harboring a wanted fugitive!”  
The nurse bristles. “Keep your voice down sir. We are in a hospital.”  
“What is going on around here?” He lets his voice boom through the waiting room.

“Oh, doctor Pierce.” The nurse looks slightly relieved. “These men demand to see one of our patients.”  
Hawkeye turns towards the…, he looks at the bars, Colonel. “What for?” He barks out. He can see the moment the army colonel’s hackles rise and he is enjoying it immensely. ‘Ah the good old days.’  
“You are harboring a fugitive by the name of Templeton Peck. I demand to see his condition and will arrest him to be escorted to Fort Bragg immediately.”  
Hawkeye moves forward to stand toe to toe with the other man. “You will do no such thing. Our patients confidentiality will not be infringed upon. I advise you to get a court order. Until then, you will keep quiet in this hospital.”  
The colonel is working is jaw in anger before barking out a: “Fine! But my men will be stationed around this facility. I will not have the A-team escape my hands again.”  
Smirking to himself, Hawkeye decides to get the last word in.   
“Again? My, you must be the army’s pride and joy.” Decker stops in his tracks and whirls around to glare at the doctor.  
“Mark my words doctor. The A-team will be mine.” He says before stalking out of the building. Hawkeye moves to his office to make a quick phone call, time to collect some debts.

A few hours and lots of coffee later the phone on the nurses desk starts ringing. After answering the phone the head nurse looks around the waiting room.  
“Colonel Decker?” The colonel had been pacing the waiting area like a caged tiger, but immediately turns to the woman, his face caught in a perpetual sneer. “There’s a phone call for you.” She hands the receiver to the still fuming man.  
“This is Colonel Decker.” Hawkeye is discretely watching from the doorway, getting ready for the show. “General Potter… Yes sir…” Decker’s face suddenly loses all color. “I… No sir…” Decker is starting to look like a shell shocked soldier. “Yes sir, right away sir.” He wordlessly hands the receiver back to the nurse and orders his men to leave the hospital.  
‘Game set match.’ Laughing Hawkeye turns around to visit his patients.

Four days later, the team is relaxing at the Greenville Downs farmhouse. Murdock is laying down on the sofa with his head on Carol’s lap. His stomach is very tender and he can’t move about freely yet but that doesn't stop him from entertaining her with a rendition of Romeo and Juliet. Tiny porcelain figurines dance around on his chest, making her giggle. She smiles down at him. Carol is still feeling incredibly guilty for her sisters actions and she tries her best to make up for it. Murdock looks up at the beautiful brunette and smiles warmly at her. Carol looks away but the pilot reaches up and turns her face so he can look at her.  
“Don’t do that Chiquita. It wasn’t yer fault.”  
Carols lips tighten in a wry smile before reaching down and kissing him softly on the lips.  
“I know… Thank you.”   
Murdock closes his eyes and returns the kiss.

Face and Maureen are upstairs looking through a window at a mare with a midnight black foal. He is leaning heavily against windowsill. One arm in a sling and the other around Maureen’s waist.  
“She was born the night you and I were abducted.”   
“So that was what Carol’s phone call was about then.” Maureen looks puzzled and Face explains. “Murdock overheard Carol talking on the phone about insurance.”   
The blonde laughs merrily. “Racehorses are an expensive business Mr. Peck. As you well know.” The conman laughs wryly.   
“He told you?”  
Maureen raises an eyebrow and smiles crookedly. “You better listen to your friend the next time you place a bet. He knows his horses.”  
Face looks down at the tiny creature walking around on long spindly legs and smiles. “She’s a beauty.” He turns to gaze deeply into Maureen’s beautiful blue eyes. “Just like you.” Maureen reaches up and runs her hands through Face’s golden locks before pressing a kiss to his lips. He answers hungrily, pushing closer to her. He runs his hand up and down her back before moving them slowly towards the bed.

B.A. looks sideways at Hannibal happily smoking his cigar. Knowing exactly what both men are up to they have taken refuge outside in the sunshine. The happenings at Saratoga race track had been all over the newspapers, but even though everything Ian and Beth had told them had been described in great detail, the involvement of the A-team wasn’t mentioned anywhere. Not by bystanders, nor the police department. Ian and his goons will be going to jail for a long time with the evidence the Team dropped off at the police station, right before heading for the tracks.

According to the doc, Decker will be pushing paper for the next few weeks. General Potter apparently loves his horses… The colonel smirks and turns toward the sergeant before looking at the blue sky.

_‘I love it when a plan comes together.’_


	16. Epilogue

Face is sitting on the couch working his shoulder. The colder climate of Virginia often makes the old injury ache. Murdock glances his way, but doesn’t comment on it. He himself often feels his old battle wounds play up, and the older he becomes the worse it gets.  
With a cold beer in their hands they are practically glued to the television set watching the Kentucky Derby. Hannibal and B.A look on contently, while Frankie has no clue why the duo suddenly is so interested in horse racing.  
“Did ya bet on the horse I told you to?” Murdock asks while taking a swig of his beer.  
“I’m a grown man, thank you very much!” Face gripes at his best friend. “I can make my own decisions…!”  
Murdock looks at his friend in disbelief. “Why don’t ya trust me on this?”  
“I… I don’t know…” The conman says dismissively. “I beat you at cards every single time, why can’t I beat you here.” He adds with a whine.  
“Because you like them slow ponies!” Murdock throws up his free hand.  
“No, no, no, no… I picked a sure winner this time.” Face whacks his friends arm. “Look they are going to start!”

“And they're off!” The announcer starts rattling off names in quick succession and very soon a light grey horse takes the lead. “’It’s a Sure Winner’ is leading with two lengths, it sure is a sight to behold ladies and gentlemen…”   
Face turns to Murdock with a wide smirk on his face. He salutes the pilot with his beer bottle and takes a swig.  
“But what’s this?! This new and upcoming runner is creeping up on ‘It’s a Sure Winner’, I can’t get a number… And…yes… YES he passed ‘It’s a Sure Winner’…” Face spits out his mouthful of beer, earning him a disgusted look from Frankie.  
“It’s number 17 in the lead with a head length… And it’s down to the wire… Oh this is really something, oh my I’ve never seen such a tight race… and… Yes ‘I Love it When a Plan Comes Together’ wins the race…!”  
Face is staring at the TV with his eyes wide open and his jaw slack.  
Murdock starts giggling and soon ends up laughing so hard tears are running down his face. He sags to the floor clutching his stomach, laughing hysterically.  
“How… hahaha… how much did ye bet…?” He gasps out between bouts of laughter.

Face looks at his friend on the floor and then to the colonel who is waving a betting sheet, looking like the cat who ate the canary. Angry he slams his beer on the table and storms out, making Murdock laugh even harder.

Hannibal turns to Frankie. “I told you; I love it when a plan comes together.”


End file.
